“’Tis surprisin’ and disheartenin’ to many of us.”
“Why is that, Louise? He is betrothed. What should you or anyone else care about what he does?”
“He doesna love Cecilia!” Louise nearly yelped.
“Who is this Cecilia?” Did she truly want to know? “Is she here?”
Louise stared at her, looking hopeless. “He didna tell ye of her,” she spoke Silene’s fear out loud. “She is Lady Cecilia Birchet and she isna well liked. Well, not by the other ladies. The men like her well enough. She is, after all, considered to be the most beautiful lady in the three kingdoms.”
Silene didn’t think it could get any worse. She was wrong. He was betrothed to the most beautiful woman in the three kingdoms? How could she be such a fool to think he would care for her? She was plain. Oh, she wanted to crawl in a crevice somewhere.
“She was here earlier,” Louise continued, clearly up on the latest gossip. “She left with her father. I heard she saw the captain and he hardly spared her a glance. I wonder if ye are the reason.” Louise gave her a good looking over and shook her head with distaste. “But why should he loveye? Ye are not shapely and yer hair has been shaved off. Ye are not what any of us would have expected him to care fer.”
Silene bristled in her spot. They behaved as if he belonged to them, as if they knew everything about him. She was certain they did not. She knew even less apparently. He was betrothed. She wanted to ask when this marriage was to take place. But she didn’t dare stir up suspicions by asking questions.
“Louise, if the captain were available, which he is not, and if I were available, which I am not, he still would not care for me. He is merely protective of me, as he would be to a little sister.”
“He has no sisters,” Louise informed her.
“There, you see?” Silene insisted, trying to calm herself. He was going to marry someone else. What else hadn’t he told her? “He thinks of me as the sister he never had.”
Louise looked her over in her religious garb. “I guess I believe ye. But if he does care fer ye, ye would be mad to let him pass through yer fingers. He is a verra powerful man.”
Silene didn’t care about his power. She cared about the man he was with or without it. But she did wonder what his position here was.
“What does he do here?” she asked Louise.
“He is in charge of everythin’ and everyone, jointly with the steward. As I understand it,” the servant told her, “they have been friends fer a long time. The captain takes care of everythin’ while the steward takes care of verra little.”
“Foolish of my uncle to do such a thing,” Silene muttered, and slipped her prayer beads around her neck. “He will lose the trust of his people. He will lose them to the charismatic captain.”
Louise cut her glance to her and nodded. “Mayhap,” she said in a low voice. “Mayhap there truly is nothin’ between ye.”
Silene turned to her, her patience at an end, her voice laced with ice. “Louise, let me assure you for the last time. There is nothing between me and the captain. I am to be a nun. Do you understand that if you soil my good name, you hurt the steward and make him your enemy?” She paused and let her words sink in. “You are to cease your gossip, or I will be forced to tell Lady Matilda and the captain. Do you understand?”
Louise stared at her for a moment and then bowed her head. “Aye, Sister. Fergive me.”
With her head still hung, she led Silene to the supper table in the center of the great hall. It was where the steward and his family sat every night with the captain.
She sat. The captain was not there. His men sat at nearby tables, smiling at her when they caught her eye.
Silene’s heart thumped hard and fast. She reached for her cup and hoped it contained something mild.
It didn’t.
Her nostrils burned just smelling it.
“Sister,” her uncle began as he set his attention on her. “Tell me, how is it at St. Patrice’s? How is Mother Superior?”
“She is well.” Silene was glad he asked for her as Mother Superior spoke of him often.
While they waited for the food to be served, they spoke of the priory and of Silene’s dedication to her vows in the spring.
“Captain MacPherson is tardy,” the steward said to his wife and to her. “We willna wait fer him.”
Silene listened and then she prayed. Perhaps he wasn’t coming. Perhaps it was better if he didn’t.
But finally, he arrived.